


A River With No Water.

by KokiPanta



Series: Jschlatt x Quackity Angst :D [2]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Angst and Feels, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Oneshot, Schlatt is abusive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:54:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29578491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KokiPanta/pseuds/KokiPanta
Summary: Eyes puffy, lips chapped and bleeding, fragile bones creaking, pale skin scratched and bruised, thighs slick with cum and lube. These morbid descriptions described Quackity’s exact state as he laid on his and Schlatt’s California King sized bed who had just got dressed and left after having his daily violation of Quackity’s small and fragile body. As painful and as traumatizing as it was, Quackity had gotten used to it. To all those all to familiar sensations.[Just another very dark and angsty Jschlatt x Quackity fanfic :)]
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Jschlatt
Series: Jschlatt x Quackity Angst :D [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2212272
Comments: 3
Kudos: 82





	A River With No Water.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So, i got a lot of love and support on my last angsty Jschlatt x Quackity fanfiction so i wanted to write another one. This one is a lot darker and more graphic, and i honestly don't like this one as much as my last one but i'm still gonna post it bc i can take it down whenever lol. Also, if you are triggered by the topic of rape, suicide, and abuse then this story definitely isn't for you :)
> 
> Thank you so much!  
> Enjoy~  
> -KokiPanta

!TW!  
-Abuse  
-Implied/Referenced Rape

Eyes puffy, lips chapped and bleeding, fragile bones creaking, pale skin scratched and bruised, thighs slick with cum and lube. These morbid descriptions described Quackity’s exact state as he laid on his and Schlatt’s California King sized bed who had just got dressed and left after having his daily violation of Quackity’s small and fragile body. As painful and as traumatizing as it was, Quackity had gotten used to it. To all those all to familiar sensations. Quackity laid there for a few minutes, shivering but unable to move to get dressed. He hated this so much. He hated his life, so much. Some how, some part of him thought that being the vice president with the man that he admired and loved the most would be fun. Obviously he was wrong, as always. Instead Quackity got himself into an endless cycle of abuse, drinking, fighting, and rape. 

Quackity slowly, slid off the bed, the painful sound of the frame creaking resurfacing memories that wanted to be forgotten. He pitifully trudged over to the bathroom connected to the bedroom to shower. As much as he hated and dreaded the feeling of the hot water digging like claws into every cut and scratch that covered his body, the pain felt so, so good. 

He turned on the shower before stepping in front of the large frameless mirror that stood behind two separate sinks. Quackity stared at his face, his hair greasy and messy, his eyes dark and sunken, his once spotless and handsome face torn to shreds, bandaids barely holding him together. He sighed, tucking some of his hair behind his ear before quickly shaking his head and untucking his hair as he remembered that Schlatt said he looked ugly like that. Quackity sighed once more before spinning around on his heels and getting into the shower. 

The feeling of the cold tile under his feet matched with the sharp stinging of the hot water on his cuts was a nice, uncomfortable feeling. Schlatt had unconsciously taught him to love and find comfort in the pain that was dished out to him everyday, wether it was a hard slap across that face or a piece of broken glass bottle slicing at his arms and legs, or the constant remarks on how ugly he was, it all felt so good. 

Quackity began to cry, tears rolling out of his eyes as he stood under the hot water smiling. His face curved into a painful smile as his eyes cried for help. Quackity’s vision got blurry as he stood there blankly tracing the lines between the grey shower tiles in front of him blankly as the hot water wet his dark brown hair before trailing down his bruised back. His mind wondered and somehow Quackity began thinking back to the moment he married Schlatt. When they said they would love each other forever, through sickness and health, till death due them part. His parents and friends used to say marriage was a beautiful thing, and was the happiest day of your life yet still Quackity found himself hating every waking moment in the white house with Schlatt, fearing for when his predator would strike next, slowly dying inside as he drifted farther and farther away from happiness and emotion as a whole because of it.

Suddenly he was pulled out of his thoughts with a sudden a sick feeling flushing into Quackity’s stomach and his knees became weak. He slowly slid down to sit on the now warm tile floor of the shower. He felt super sick, and his mind first went to maybe we was feeling this was from all the built up cum in his system. Now he was laying down, curled up and clutching his stomach on the floor of the small square shower, hot water raining down on him, his eyes fluttering closed. 

Running. Feet pounding against dirt and grass, the heavy steps sending vibrations all around. It was sunny, very sunny, the birds were chirping, the wind was blowing, branches were rustling. He was free. He was finally free. Quackity had run away from Schlatt and was now running through a large, open grassy plain. Not a care in the world, just his mind focused on his feet beating down against the earth and his face pulled into a genuine smile of happiness. The feeling was amazing, he felt so free. It was over, it was finally over. No more being trapped in that house with his abuser, no more fear, no more pain, no more hiding. Just him and the world together.

Wait, why was he so cold? Slowly, Quackity opened his eyes to see a foggy glass door and white tiles. It was all a dream. Of course. Tears dribbled out of his eyes in defeat. 

“No…no! Please, no…” Quackity mumbled, wrapping his arms around his naked body to stay warm, since Schlatt had probably come in here and turned the shower off, leaving Quackity peacefully passed out on the floor. 

Quackity rolled over onto his back looking up toward the top of the shower which seemed so far away now from where he was, tears slowly rolling down his cheeks. Why was it like this all the time? Maybe this was just a nightmare and he was actually running through fields and living his best life. Maybe if he dreamt hard enough he could finally reach out and grab that reality. 

Maybe, if he tried a little harder, he could be happy.

Maybe, if he stopped constantly stopping himself from taking a whole bottle of pills or slicing a long line down his arm, he would be okay. 

Maybe, if he just let go, the pain would stop. 

Like a drip with no more water give.


End file.
